Wait, what am I doing? I can't. I have to turn around.
Just go with it my subconscious chimes in, and that's exactly what I do.
I don't have to ask the lady at the front desk what room he's in, I just sign in and smile the best I can. I still don't know why I'm here. He's probably going to tell me to leave. Crap. What am I doing here? Why did I think this would be a good idea? Before I can change my mind my hand is wrapped around the door knob and pushing the door open.
The door slowly opens to reveal an empty bed. I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding. I walk over to his bed and sit down. I lightly run my fingers over the sheets and lay my head on his pillow. It smells of the fragrance my dad used to wear, also a little bit of gel. I can't help but unravel and I begin crying, no, sobbing uncontrollably, hugging the pillow so tightly I think it might explode. Why is life so hard? I mean, I know it doesn't come with a manual but it shouldn't be so hard.
I need to leave. I mean look at me, sobbing in the hospital bed of a boy I just met. Wow, what was I thinking? I need to go before he comes back.
Just as I begin to sit up I hear the door knob click. Shit.
Luke walks in and doesn't seem to notice me at first. He's still wearing that green day shirt, but he's now wearing plaid pajama pants. He's also holding a book in his hands, the cover still isn't on it. His face is practically buried in the book until his eyes glimpse up at me.
"Holy shit Megan,"He jumps nearly ten feet in the air, holding his hand to his chest. "You scared the piss out of me. What the hell are you doing here?" He has a puzzled look on his face. His tone doesn't seem angry, thankfully.
I stay silent for a second, not knowing what to respond to his question. What am I doing here? It seems like I've asked myself that question a hundred times in the last half hour.
"I don't know." Is all I can choke out before breaking down into sobs again. I throw my hands to my face to cover my emotional breakdown. Stop. Megan, get it together. Stop crying. Stop crying. But I can't, I let it all out.
"Oh, shit. Okay, uhh." he rushes to set his book down and sit by me on his bed.
"What's going on? Is everything alright?" His voice full of concern, surprisingly. I don't answer, I can't answer. Everything's not alright.
Luke's POV
What the actual fuck is going on? I planned on coming back to my room and reading until I passed out, I didn't expect this shit. I just met the girl today and she's already crying in my room.
"What's going on? Is everything alright?" My voice sounding ridiculously caring. She doesn't answer, causing me to begin to worry.
Wait, what? Since when did I give two shits about anyone's feelings?
Since never, that's when, and I'm not about to start.
"Either suck it up, or get the hell out. I have plans tonight and they don't involve comforting a hormonal teenage girl." I sternly say. I realize how harsh that sounds but I don't care. I don't care. Nope, not at all.
She removes her hands from her face and she looks me in the eye for the first time tonight and I can see the hurt in her eyes. They're glazed over like newly cut glass, I can literally feel her pain.
Her pain is replaced with disgust and she stands.
"Sorry for bugging you, won't happen again." she huffs and leaves. Finally, she's annoying as fuck.
Megs POV
I'm so gone. I don't even hesitate when I stand and leave the room. I begin walking out of the hospital, not even bothering to smile at the lady at the front desk. He's so..so.. Ugh I can't even put into words what he is.
I fumble with my keys when I reach my car. I'm so upset I've begun to shake.
He's unbelievable and intolerable. I knew this was a terrible idea. Screw him and screw coming to see him tomorrow. Who does he think he is?
I drive around aimlessly for about ten minutes, just trying to clear my thoughts before I get home. He looked and sounded so concerned. Maybe that was just my head playing tricks with me. The Luke Hemmings I've known for less than twenty four hours is a total jerk who doesn't care about anyone but himself. I'm so angry that I don't even feel sadness any more. Any sorrow I felt was replaced with aggravation and irritation.
My head is so fuzzy that I don't even realize that I'm going 65 down the back roads, flying past every stop sign. I'm not ever this reckless, I've also never been so infuriated. I should probably get it together and head home.
I fly past another stop sign but this time I'm jerked sideways by a tremendous force. Then, it's all black.
//Ugh. I'm sososososo sorry it's so short. It's kind of just a filler bc I'm not sure what's happening but hey, what's the fun in having your shit together? :)
XX-
